


We Kissed Like We Invented It

by DontLetHimGo



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (Yes I know I'm ashamed), (sort of), 69 (Sex Position), AU, Alter Ego April, Blow Jobs, Closeted Character, Dating, Established Relationship, Famous Louis, Fluff, M/M, Smut, There's rimming too if you squint (a lot), normal harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-10
Updated: 2014-05-10
Packaged: 2018-01-24 07:02:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1595885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DontLetHimGo/pseuds/DontLetHimGo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where Louis is still in One Direction, but Harry is not, and there's a frustratingly endearing boy working on the set of One Direction's new music video.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Kissed Like We Invented It

**Author's Note:**

> Hi :) New fic time! This is my (very late) entry for Alter Ego April. I really hope you guys enjoy it; it's taken me a ridiculous amount of time to get it finished with my exams and everything. (And sorry for the lame description!)
> 
> {You may also see that I am writing something with [XxXKristieMarieXxX](http://archiveofourown.org/users/XxXKristieMarieXxX/pseuds/XxXKristieMarieXxX). If that's your kind of fic, please give it a read and let us know what you think! :)}
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own One Direction, and all elements of this are fictional. I also don't know how boybands work behind the scenes - hence my inaccuracies about the filming of the video.
> 
> This is a work written by myself, and I do not wish for it to be posted elsewhere. Even if you give me credit, I would much prefer that it stay here on ao3 and on my tumblr only. Thank you!

“Shit.”

Louis roots through his wallet, praying to any possible deity that may hear him. There’s no way he could’ve left his credit card somewhere other than on his person. He couldn’t possibly be that _careless_ … Surely not.

“Is something the matter, sir?”

He can tell by the look in the cashier’s eyes that she knows exactly who he is, and is doing a very good job at holding back from fangirling over his presence.

“I think I might’ve left my credit card back at… work,” he mumbles, attempting to force the shame away from him.

“Oh. I’m uh, afraid that-”

The cashier pauses in her second-hand embarrassment spiel as a hand appears over Louis’ left shoulder, and it almost seems to be moving in slow motion; as if the gods had heard him and were delivering a miracle. The hand is holding a royal blue credit card, with the name _‘MR H E STYLES’_ embellished on the surface of it. Louis’ more drawn to the wrist attached to this hand however; it’s covered in tattoos – the largest being that of an anchor, which, weirdly, has no rope attached to it.

“I’ll pay for this,” a voice from behind him says, and it partly surprises Louis with how slow and deep it is.

“Uh, okay,” the cashier says, taking the card from him and pulling out the PIN machine.

 

It’s only when the drinks are paid for and Louis is holding onto the cup holder with both hands - after signing a napkin for the cashier – that he gets a proper look at his saviour.

They make eye contact, and the other boy smiles wide enough for a dimple to form in his cheek.

Louis stares at it for a second too long before realising he’s still blocking the front of the queue.

“Oh God, sorry – I’ll just get out of your way.” He shuffles awkwardly aside. “Thank you for that by the way. I-”

He’s interrupted by the other boy gently taking his arm and leading him to the nearest empty table. He pulls out a chair for Louis before sitting opposite, the smile still going strong on his face.

“Is there anything I can do to thank you properly? An autograph? Picture?”

He’s not suggesting these things to be boastful necessarily; he just knows that this boy is simply one of the many people he’ll see today, and one of the many he’s likely to forget. (Plus, he has a small amount of knowledge on how much his autograph can make on eBay.)

However, the boy with the floral headscarf tied in his curls doesn’t pick up either of those suggestions.

“How about you let me take you on a date?”

Now, don’t get him wrong, Louis knows that there are many people – girls and boys alike, since he came out as bisexual last summer – who would want to take him out. He sees it in their eyes as he takes selfies with them; he feels it through the appreciative text posts in his tag on Tumblr; but never, ever, has anyone said it directly to his face like that.

That’s why – after what shouldn’t be adequate persuasion - he ends up saying yes.

 

~*~

 

“What the fuck are you thinking?” Niall exclaims as Louis hands over his frappe. “He could be a psycho stalker fan for all you know!”

“He seems nice.” Louis shrugs, perching on the arm of the sofa and sipping his strawberry and pineapple ice.

“Well, he isn’t exactly going to seem like a weirdo straight away, is he?”

“This is why we were told to not go out with fans…” Liam adds in a know-it-all tone.

Louis wants to punch him.

“Who the fuck are we supposed to go out with, if not fans? The twats that hate me? I don’t think so,” Louis spits, angrily brushing his hair out of his face with his free hand. “Besides, you guys should be grateful. If it weren’t for Harry, you’d still be on bottled water now.”

Louis takes that opportunity to waltz out of the room and down the corridor to the toilets, where he inspects his appearance in the mirror before opening a new conversation with the most recently added contact in his phone.

**How about pizza hut on Friday? :)**

It’s not the most romantic restaurant in town – Jesus, he barely stooped to that level when he took girls out in secondary school – but it’s the ultimate test; sure, he might still be a weirdo, but this will hopefully eradicate any gold-digger-esque hopes this boy may have.

The response comes about a minute later:

**Sounds good to me! 6.30 okay? .x**

 

**See you there :)**

 

~*~

 

Luckily – because he’s Louis Tomlinson of One Direction, of course – he manages to bargain with Pizza Hut so they have the whole upstairs area of the restaurant to themselves. His bandmates had advised him to do the complete opposite and make sure that there’s lots of people around (because they’re practically 100% positive that Harry is the type of guy to kidnap Louis and hold him for ransom).

Louis’ just spontaneous; so sue him.

He texts Harry to meet him round the back, just next to the fire escape stairs, which they will have to ascend to get into Pizza Hut unnoticed.

Harry grins when he steps round the corner, walking over to Louis and his bodyguard with his hands shoved in his pockets. (Louis wonders how the hell that can be possible; if he remembers correctly, Harry’s hands are quite large, and his jeans leave little to the imagination.)

“Is this some sort of secret mission?” Harry asks over the sound of their shoes clattering on the metal stairs.

“Can’t have any more thirsty fans asking me out, now can I?” Louis replies, raising an eyebrow as he opens the heavy emergency exit door and holds it for the taller boy.

“Well, to tell you the honest truth, I’m not really a fan.”

Louis over exaggerates his look of disgust, before his open mouth turns into a smirk. “No correction on the thirsty part, then?”

The response to that comment is a playful slap on the arm as they approach their table and sit.

“Violence!” Louis exclaims in faux-shock. “My bandmates warned me about people like you.”

“You were the one that took little persuading to go out with me,” Harry replies, turning to the back of the menu to choose a drink.

“I know! I’m normally not one for such sudden decisions.”

The curly haired boy chuckles. “I may not be a fan, but I saw your Daybreak interview when – Neil, is it? – described you as spontaneous, loud, loud and loud.”

Louis shrugs in a _‘what can you do?’_ manner and looks down at his own menu, deciding to not correct Harry’s mistake on his bandmate’s name – he could have some fun with that.

 

~*~

 

“I shouldn’t have let you pay.”

“Harry, who’s the celebrity here?”

“Okay, okay; but I’ll be paying next time.”

Louis stops at the bottom of the stairs, watching his bodyguard wander ahead to the car. He turns to smile (in a way which he hopes comes out as sexy) at Harry, reaching forward with one hand to tangle their fingers together. “So there’ll be a next time then?”

Harry suddenly looks embarrassed as he glances down at the ground and shuffles from foot to foot. “That’s if you, uh, want that…”

Louis leans up to press a kiss to Harry’s cheek, pausing to whisper, “Of course,” in his ear. As he pulls back, Louis catches the eye of his bodyguard, who is now leaning against the black vehicle, tapping the imaginary watch on his wrist.

Sighing, the older boy grins at Harry once more, swinging their joint hands between them. “Someone’s getting impatient.” He nods in the direction of the car. “I guess I’ll see you soon though, yeah?”

It’s dark out, but Harry’s smile is bright as his teeth practically glow in the moonlight. “Yeah,” he says softly, and then it’s his turn to lean forward to press a kiss to Louis’ cheek.

 

~*~

 

Zayn, Liam and Niall are all sat on the sofa in front of the television when Louis returns home. He ignores their presence and dumps his shoes and jacket in the cloakroom before making his way into the kitchen to get a glass of water.

“How did it go?” Niall calls, and Louis knows that he probably hasn’t even taken his eyes from the screen.

Louis takes a sip of his drink. “Maybe I’ll tell you after you’ve explained why the three of you thought it would be a good idea to break into my house without permission.”

He doesn’t entirely know why he’s bothering with that request; it seems that whenever he arrives home, at least one of his bandmates is sat somewhere in his house, most likely eating something from his fridge. They are the north-pole of a magnet, his house (or maybe even Louis himself) is the south-pole.

Zayn shrugs, shoving a handful of Doritos in his mouth. “It’s not breaking in if we have a key,” he says around his mouthful.

As he slides onto the arm of the sofa, the oldest boy sighs. “I gave Niall that key so he could feed Toffee when I was away on holiday.” There’s a pause before he adds: “Speaking of Toffee - where is she?”

It’s now Niall’s turn to shrug as he gestures towards the stairs with his beer bottle. “Upstairs somewhere, I guess. Anyway, enough about your stinking cat - how did it go?”

“Good.”

“Good? Are we seriously just getting ‘good’ from this?” Niall sounds incredulous. “Come on - give us the juicy details!”

“Jesus Christ Niall, when did this become a girly sleepover?”

Louis’ hardly surprised. Despite the fact that his three best friends thought it was an incredibly bad idea to go out with Harry, he knows that Niall would still want every detail on how it went, due to his insane interest and investment in Louis’ love life. Some would see it as pretty invasive, but if he’s honest, Louis often just wants to have a gossip about whoever he’s been on a date with.

Deciding that Niall deserves a proper answer, he continues. “He’s actually really sweet. Not completely deranged - I promise. He even said that he’s not a proper fan, so Li-Li: no rules broken by me.”

Liam lets out a heavy breath. “I just want you to be careful, Lou.”

“Honestly, Li,” Louis turns in his seat, “I think Harry will be good for me. I know it’s hard to tell after one date, of course, so I’m gonna go on a few more with him just to see how things go. Okay?”

Liam smiles then. Finally. “Okay. Good plan.”

 

~*~

 

After Harry has actually kept to his word and paid for dinner from a nice Chinese restaurant further in town, it’s taking much too long for either of them to say their goodbyes.

They keep laughing and joking with one another, getting closer and closer together until Louis leans up to Harry’s ear and whispers, “Come back to mine.”

The slightly surprised smile on Harry’s face is one of the most beautiful things Louis has ever seen, and when the taller boy nods and says, “I’d love to,” it’s even better.

 

The ride back to Louis’ is spent in comfortable silence; the two of them sit in the back of the car, arms and knees pressed together and occasional smiles shared between them. When they arrive, Louis opens the car door for his guest and dismisses his bodyguard before leading Harry into the house.

“Wow; this is very…fancy,” Harry says, politely removing his shoes and leaving them by the cloak room door.

Louis hangs up his jacket and looks over his shoulder, raising his eyebrows in Harry’s direction.

“Not that I was expecting any different,” Harry adds, a cheeky grin making its way onto his face.

Being unable to do anything other than smile back, Louis does so before leading the way into the living room.

“Do you want a drink or anything? I’ve got a bottle of wine in the fridge, or beer, or-“

“Wine would be nice, thanks,” Harry interrupts, flopping down onto the sofa. Louis watches as the cat jumps straight onto his knee. “Ooh, who’s this?”

Toffee nudges her head into Harry’s palm, purrs already in her throat. _You and me both,_ Louis thinks.

“That’s Toffee,” Louis replies, smiling as Harry starts to gently stroke her ginger fur. The smile doesn’t leave his face as he walks into the kitchen; he can still hear Harry talking softly to the cat.

He grabs the wine with two glasses, rushing around so he doesn’t have to be out of Harry’s company for too long. “Fancy watching a film?” he asks as he re-enters the living room and places everything in his hands onto the coffee table.

“As long as I can choose,” Harry answers.

Louis gestures towards the large cabinet underneath the flat screen television on the wall. In return, Harry points to the cat on his lap. “You’ll have to fetch it for me.”

“Jesus, Styles, what did the last one die of?”

Harry just pouts and pauses in his stroking of Toffee, who mewls pitifully.

Because Harry and his cat are too difficult to say no to, Louis obeys – even when Harry decides he wants to watch _This Is Us_ (which involves too much of Louis embarrassing himself to possibly be a good choice to watch with a boy he actually likes).

 

Louis decides that he really wants to kiss Harry about twenty minutes into the film, when on-screen-Louis has just made an absolutely awful joke and Harry is curled up on the other end of the sofa, trapped in fits of uncontrollable squeaky giggles.

Eyeing the glass of wine on the coffee table, Louis sees that Harry has only had a couple of sips, and because he knows that he only had a glass of lemonade at dinner, the older boy realises that these are actual genuine giggles.

Louis then thinks that he’s probably been staring at Harry for much too long; his main clue being that Harry is now looking back, covering his mouth with a hand as the soft – now muffled - laughter continues.

“Fuck, you’re cute,” Louis blurts out, and then realises what he’s just said.

Harry freezes. His hand is still covering his mouth when he mumbles, “No one has ever called me cute before.”

“Well then, no one has given you the compliment you deserve.”

There’s a pause as Louis’ words hang in the air, but then Harry’s diving across the sofa – luckily, by this point, the cat has claimed the armchair as her territory – and hesitating in front of Louis’ face, their noses tiny centimetres apart.

“You really think I’m cute?”

Nervous butterflies explode in Louis’ stomach, but he just swallows before speaking. “Of course. Plus a lot of other sappy adjectives, which would probably take much too long to-”

Harry then decides to capture Louis’ lips with his own, effectively cutting off his sentence.

Louis kisses back almost straight away and is then rewarded with a pleased sound rumbling in Harry’s throat, which just makes Louis want to kiss him harder. His hands slowly make their way up Harry’s back until they’re nestled in the younger boy’s curls, tugging gently at those near the nape of his neck. A soft whimper is pressed against Louis’ lips as Harry curls even tighter against him, and a gasp escapes Louis when Harry’s hands are spread across the entirety of the older boy’s arse.

“ _Harry_ ,” he breathes, pulling back and relishing in the feeling of arousal in his stomach as Harry gets to work on leaving a bruise on the juncture between his neck and shoulder. “Do you want to go upstairs?”

Harry pulls back from Louis’ skin with a wet noise, smiling wickedly. “Mmm, I like that idea,” he murmurs. Louis thinks he looks a bit drunk.

The two of them stumble out of the living room, down the corridor to the stairs. Before ascending them, however, Louis gently presses Harry against the wall, biting and sucking at the pale skin of his neck. He can faintly smell… is that pineapples?

Harry whines high in his throat. “Louis, please.”

“Fuck, okay.” Louis finally finds it within himself to pull away, wasting no time before he’s running up the stairs two at a time and dragging the other boy along with him.

 

When they eventually get to the bedroom, Louis goes straight over to the bed, sitting on the edge and watching as Harry pauses in the doorway.

“I swear to god, Harold, if you are planning on ruining the mood by complimenting my room…”

Harry shakes his head fiercely so his curls bounce and strides over to the bed, hesitation in his eyes as he contemplates what to do next. When Louis gets his hands on Harry’s hips and tugs him forward however, Harry falls into the older boy’s lap, straddling his thighs. Louis’ lips almost immediately return to the younger’s neck, leaving soft kisses up and down the expanse of skin; a squeak escapes Harry’s mouth when his earlobe is held between Louis’ teeth.

“Lou, Louis, _please_ ,” Harry whimpers, his hands in fists where they clutch at the material of Louis’ shirt.

“Please what, baby?”

Harry lets out a shaky breath as Louis’ response resulted in his soft lips brushing against his skin once again. “Please just… touch me or something, I dunno.”

Louis looks up at him from beneath his lashes, a look of faux-innocence appearing on his face. “But Harry, I’m touching you already.”

“…’s not enough!” Harry groans, his nails now digging into Louis’ shoulder blades.

Louis’ eyes soften at the sound of desperation in the boy’s voice, and he slowly starts trailing his hands down the front of Harry’s shirt, undoing each of the buttons one by one. “I’m sorry, baby; I know. You’ll just have to wait a moment longer, okay?”

Harry opens his mouth to reply, the words only being cut off by a moan when Louis pushes the shirt off his shoulders and latches on to his right nipple in one fluid movement, sucking at the bud until it becomes erect. He then moves on to the left, giving it the same treatment as Harry whines above him.

“So responsive,” Louis mutters. “You like having your nipples played with, huh?”

Harry nods quickly before Louis is leaning back onto the bed, pulling the other boy on top of him, pressing their lips together messily. There’s probably too much tongue, and their teeth clack together once or twice, but Louis doesn’t care; he’s much too turned on, and – if the bulge making itself known in Harry’s skinny jeans is anything to go by – Harry seems to be too.

Louis rolls the two of them over so he’s on top, keeping Harry’s legs wrapped around his waist as the two of them continue kissing. After a few minutes of this, Louis realises that only one of Harry’s hands is still on his waist; the other is slowly but surely making its way across the top of Louis’ jeans, his fingers dipping just below the waistband.

Louis, on the other hand, is much less subtle as he grinds down against Harry, smirking against his lips when he lets out a surprised squeak.

“Not enough time for subtlety, Styles,” Louis whispers as the two of them slowly start to move together, getting enough friction on their cocks to tide them over for only a short time; soon they know that they need more - rubbing off on each other between four layers of material is definitely not enough.

“Jeans. Off.”

Louis undoes Harry’s jeans deftly, but tugging them down proves to be a challenge. He’s got them about a quarter of the way down Harry’s thighs when he hears the giggles.

Louis mock-glares up at him, fighting the smile threatening to appear on his face. ( _Harry’s laugh is contagious, okay?_ ) “This is not a laughing matter.”

Soon they’re both laughing helplessly, and - with anyone else - Louis would complain that the mood has been ruined, but with Harry, something’s different. It’s almost like Louis has always had a secret wish to be able to laugh with his partner during sex; like he wants it to be more than just a shag.

He still wishes that he could get these fucking jeans off so he can get Harry’s dick in his mouth though.

When their laughter has died down - and Harry has noticed Louis’ frustration - the younger boy jumps off the bed, pulling his jeans straight down to the floor and removing them along with his socks. He goes to clamber back onto the bed again, but Louis stops him; he hates the idea that Harry’s there in just boxers and he’s the unlucky sod who’s still fully dressed. He drags his t-shirt over his head and shoves his jeans down his legs, deciding to go one better and remove his underwear too before flopping backwards onto the mattress.

Harry licks his lips – _fuck_ – and crawls over to the older boy, his hands wasting no time as they immediately grasp Louis’ cock.

Louis sucks in a sharp breath and tries to bat Harry away, but the younger boy just smirks and uses his free hand to hold Louis’ wrists together on the pillows just above his head.

“Not enough time for subtlety,” he mocks before leaning down and kissing Louis breathless, swallowing his whines and moans.

“Harry, _Harry_ , please, Harry,” Louis whimpers when Harry pulls back slightly, breath still hitting each other’s lips.

“Oh, how the tables have turned,” Harry mumbles as he starts moving down Louis’ body and leaving butterfly kisses in his wake. “Look at you, begging for me.”

Feeling his back arching from the bed, Louis lets another plead leave his lips, which is suddenly cut off when Harry takes a tentative lick at the head of his cock.

With his arms still above his head – despite the fact that Harry has now let go of his wrists – Louis feels as if he can’t move, but he wants to touch.

He wants to feel Harry’s curls slipping through his fingers. He wants to bite the soft skin of his thighs. He wants to experience the weight of Harry’s dick on his tongue.

It’s all pretty overwhelming.

When Harry properly dips his head, getting at least half of Louis’ dick in the warm heat of his mouth, Louis is almost tempted to throw his head back. He doesn’t however, and is rewarded with the sight of Harry peeking up at him from beneath his lashes, his eyes already watering.

Desperate to say something, anything, Louis murmurs, “Good boy.”

Harry freezes, and Louis panics, worried that he’s said the wrong thing. Part of him wants to stutter out some form of apology, but the other part is telling him to keep quiet and wait.

He’s glad he listens to the second part.

Harry lets out a breathy moan, sending vibrations down the length of Louis’ cock.

“Fu- _uck_ ,” Louis chokes out, this time unable to do anything but flop his head backwards on the bed. He can practically feel Harry’s smirk as he begins to move faster than before, bobbing his head up and down and occasionally tonguing at the slit.

Surprised to already feel the heat of pleasure coiling in his stomach, Louis finally drags up enough strength to reach down and pull Harry off of his cock by his hair, kissing the bewildered look off his face.

“Your turn now,” Louis breathes when he has pulled back slightly.

Harry shakes his head. “Not finished with you yet,” he argues, almost desperately; as if he’s thirsty for Louis’ cock, and… _Jesus fucking Christ_.

Louis rolls him over onto his back, crawling over him so his face is level with Harry’s dick, and vice versa. Eager to please and wasting no time, Louis slowly works his mouth down, trying to get as much of the other boy’s cock as possible in his mouth as he runs his tongue up the underside. Harry’s hips buck upwards, effectively forcing him further down Louis’ throat and causing him to choke.

“Oh God, sorry,” Harry hisses.

Louis inwardly rolls his eyes and removes his mouth from Harry’s skin. “If you want to apologise properly, make yourself useful,” he says, rolling his hips down towards Harry’s face until he takes the hint and wraps his red-from-blowjob lips around Louis’ dick.

 

Soon the room is filled with only the sounds and smells of sex as the two boys reach their climaxes and come down one another’s throats. The strength in Louis’ arms dissipates almost straight after, so he flops down over Harry’s pelvis, pressing kisses to his hipbones.

Harry whines softly and rearranges their bodies so he can kiss Louis again, gently this time. Louis supposes, if he were thinking straight, he could almost describe it is _thankful_.

“Wow, Lou,” Harry mumbles into Louis’ hair when the older boy has settled on his chest. “Who knew sex with a popstar could be so good?”

“I don’t know if I’m supposed to be offended by that or not,” Louis replies, eyes already closed, “but I’m gonna say thanks anyway.”

“It was okay though, right?” Harry asks weakly, his breath whispering across the chestnut strands.

“Babe,” Louis shifts so he can look Harry straight in the eye, “I’m telling you this honestly: anyone who gets head from you is a lucky fucker who will die a happy man.”

A small smile forms on Harry’s face. “Likewise.”

Louis nods, pleased, before settling his head in Harry’s collarbones. “Now let’s sleep; I’m fucked out.”

Harry chuckles, pulling the quilt over the two of them and kissing the top of Louis’ head.

 

~*~

 

Louis is rudely awoken the next day by a cat being dropped on top of him.

“Jesus Christ; what the-?”

He pauses when he sees who’s stood at the end of his bed with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Good morning, Louis,” Zayn says, crossing his arms over his chest. “I just came in to ask whether you knew why there’s a boy in your kitchen who looks to be wearing only your underwear.”

Holding back from making a comment about Niall stealing his underwear _again_ , Louis can already feel his stupid soft smile – which he thinks should be renamed as his ‘Harry smile’ – taking over his face as he says, “Oh, that’s Harry.”

When he receives no verbal response from Zayn - just continuous staring - Louis climbs out of bed, slips on some joggers and leaves the room, making his way downstairs to the kitchen.

Harry is pulling a frying pan out of the cupboard when Louis sneaks up behind him and wraps his arms around the taller boy’s waist.

“Good morning,” Louis murmurs, pressing his lips against the side of his neck.

Harry gently places the pan on the counter. “Mmm,” he hums as he turns round in Louis’ arms, “good morning to you too.”

Louis reaches up to kiss Harry gently, their lips moving together for brief seconds before someone's clearing their throat from the doorway.

They pull apart and Louis rolls his eyes as Harry stares, open-mouthed, towards the source of the sound.

“Oh God.”

“What’s up?” Louis says, his voice muffled where his head is against Harry’s chest.

“I’m only in boxers and I’m in the presence of every member of One Direction.”

Letting out a soft snort, Louis looks over his shoulder and glares at the three figures in the doorway. “What do you want?”

“ _Rude_ ,” Niall comments, mock offended.

“Aren’t you going to introduce us?” Liam says before Louis has chance to snap something back.

Louis rolls his eyes, sure that Liam must be fairly certain as to who this boy is. However, he still entangles his fingers with Harry’s and hops up onto the counter beside where he’s standing, gesturing between him and those on the other side of the kitchen. “Lads, this is Harry. Harry, you know who they are.”

Before the others can get any closer to him, Harry holds up his free hand. “Wait a second; let me see if I’ve got this right.”

Harry makes his way through Liam and Zayn easily, shaking each of their hands and getting their names right. When he reaches Niall though, he pauses and says cautiously, “Neil, right?”

The other three boys burst out laughing as Niall narrows his eyes in Louis’ direction.

“I can’t believe you’d fucking do that again, Louis; I swear to Christ.”

Harry looks over his shoulder in Louis' direction, a look of confusion furrowing his eyebrows. "What's funny?"

Once his laughter has died down, Louis sighs. "It's Niall, babe. Sorry I never corrected you before."

Harry chuckles, turning back to the boy in front of him. "Sorry mate. Nice to meet you."

Niall looks down at Harry's outstretched hand before haughtily crossing his arms and looking away. "And I thought I was your favourite."

Before Harry has chance to come up with a response, Louis - with a massive smirk on his face, of course - is speaking. "You wouldn't be thinking that if you knew what was going on last night."

There's a chorus of _'Looouuuuuuis_ ' from everyone but Harry, who is now laughing and smiling at the older boy.

There's a short moment of silence when the two boys just look at one another, trapped in their own little bubble, but it is interrupted when Niall groans:

"Jesus Christ, get a bloody room."

Louis chuckles once again as he drops down from the counter, taking Harry's hand in his and dragging him out of the kitchen, leaving the ' _ooooh_ 's of his bandmates behind.

 

~*~

 

Harry ends up spending most of the day at Louis' with him and the other boys, playing on the Xbox and watching film after film, and despite the fact that his bandmates were so cautious about him dating Harry before, Louis has a feeling that they really don't care about that anymore.

Harry fits in with them as if he should've been friends with them from the start, and Louis can't help but think how he'd miss Harry if he wasn't there.

Of course, with that thought comes a self-scolding, because, _seriously, who can possibly think those sorts of things about a boy they've practically just met?_

_No one._

But Louis has a strong feeling that Harry might just be the exception.

 

~*~

 

"Are you sure the guys won't mind?"

Louis squeezes Harry's hand comfortingly as they walk down the corridor to the studio. "Of course they won't; they've practically adopted you."

Harry lets out his little giggle, and _what sort of man is Louis if that doesn't make him want to start peppering kisses all over the younger boy's face?_

However, he has to settle for reminding Harry just how cute he is, due to the fact that there is an ever-present risk surrounding them of being found out.

 

It took enough effort to persuade his management to let him announce his bisexuality - which he's starting to think might be a bit of a lie, because it's been a long time since he's been attracted to a girl -  so to announce a relationship with a man would probably prove even more difficult.

In everyone's eyes (apart from his bandmates and personal bodyguard), Louis is still single.

And that's fine.

He and Harry don't even have a label for this _thing_ , so whatever.

 

"Lou?"

Louis realises he's stopped dead in the middle of the corridor, and Harry is stood right in front of him, worry clouding over his eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asks, taking one of Louis' hands and rubbing his thumb back and forth across it soothingly.

Looking up at Harry's genuinely concerned expression, Louis acts on his normal spontaneity and the words simply tumble from his lips.

"Wouldyouliketobemyboyfriend?"

The other boys - especially Niall - never fail in taking the piss out of Harry's slow drawl, so Louis is slightly surprised when Harry's widened eyes tell him that he actually understood that word vomit.

After a moment of stunned silence for each of them - where Louis is mentally preparing himself for the rejection he's used to - Harry checks in all directions before picking Louis up and swinging him around in a circle.

Louis grins when his feet are back on the ground and Harry is pressing kisses all over his cheeks. "I'm taking that as a yes then."

Harry removes his lips from Louis' skin, looking at him with shining eyes. "What else could I have possibly said to that?"

Louis’ sure that the butterflies that then decide to break out of their cocoons are related to those that showed their faces when he kissed Harry for the first time.

That’s why his only response can be to kiss him again.

 

~*~

 

“I really don’t know how you got so good at that, but Jesus Christ,” Louis breathes, his body finally dropping flat to the mattress after spending a lot of time on his hands and knees.

“I’m just a natural, I guess,” Harry replies in his sex-slurred voice as he presses kisses along the length of Louis’ back.

"God, I could let you do that all day." Louis - despite the fact that he feels pretty detached from his body - knows his back is curving towards Harry's insistent lips.

"Your wish is my command," Harry mumbles, sticking out his tongue now and trailing it down Louis' spine until he reaches his arse.

"Not now!" Louis squeaks, quickly rolling over before Harry - and his amazing tongue - can get any further.

Harry pouts, but stands up to retrieve a flannel and mouthwash from the ensuite.

 

Louis thinks about how he's going to bring it up.

 

The media have started to notice that Harry is a 'close pal' of the band, and because of that, a lot of their friends have been wanting to meet him. (Even Louis' mum for god's sake - Louis has an awful feeling she may have been reading about those fans that think he and Harry are in a relationship. Which they are, but the fans can't know that yet.)

Louis grabs his phone off the bedside table and scrolls through his texts to the message he received from Ed a few days ago.

 

**Hey mate, having a little get together at my place next weekend, was wondering if you and the lads want to come? You can bring your new buddy too :)**

 

Harry appears in the doorway just as Louis' eyebrows furrow together after re-reading the message.

"What's up?"

Louis sighs and shifts across the bed so Harry can fit beside him, a slight smile forming on his face as Harry gently wipes away the small droplets of come that made it onto Louis' chest and stomach.

"So, you know how we have this little get together at Ed's?"

Harry nods slowly, and Louis can see how he's not trying to appear too excited. On their first date, most of the discussion was about music, and Harry had expressed how much of a fan he is of Ed.

“Well, I just wanted to ask about how you’d like to, um, _act_ that night.”

“Oh,” Harry whispers, the smile on his face slipping a bit.

Louis immediately worries, hating the sad expression his boyfriend is wearing. He has no idea what to say; they both know that they’d want to be superglued to one another’s side for the whole evening, but there may be certain issues with that.

“I miss you sometimes, you know.”

Louis freezes before meeting Harry’s eyes once again, realising that he’s being completely sincere.

“Why? We’re together all the time, and-”

“No we’re not, Lou. Most of the time we’re just ‘ _close pals_ ’ right?”

The older boy sighs, gesturing dismissively. “Those twats at The Sun can speculate all they want – those that matter know the truth, yeah?”

Harry nods, clearly unconvinced, so Louis kisses him.

When there is no reciprocation after a good minute or so, Louis goes to pull back, but Harry chases his lips and finally kisses back passionately, rolling on top of him on the bed. It’s after a while that Louis feels the wetness against his cheek and gently breaks the kiss; he realises that it’s tears.

Wiping his thumbs under the younger boy’s eyes, Louis mumbles, “Please don’t cry. I promise that this relationship is something that-”

“I love you, Louis.”

Louis’ breath catches in his throat, his chest pulls tight, and the palms of his hands turn sweaty where they’re held against Harry’s shoulderblades.

It’s shock.

No one – other than his family – has ever said that to him before. Normally it’s his voice saying those words, and they’re followed by humiliation and a text message the next morning saying something about ‘being better as friends’. They’re words that he would normally dread with his whole being, but right now, it’s the best thing he’s ever heard.

It’s then that he realises he’s been staring at Harry without blinking for quite a long time now, and Harry looks like he’s starting to panic.

“I…I…” Louis chokes out, desperate to get some words out of his throat. He knows what needs to be said – he thinks it must be fairly obvious at this point – but he almost feels as if Harry deserves something better than a declaration of reciprocated love.

When Harry’s lips part shakily as if he wants to speak, Louis cuts him off by kissing him once again, feeling his heart pounding against his ribcage; he wonders if Harry can feel it too.

“I love you so much,” Louis finally mumbles against the other boy’s lips, and Harry sighs in what appears to be relief before continuing with snogging the breath out of them both.

They eventually have to pull apart for air, but when their mouths have separated and their noses are still pressed together, Harry whispers, “I was yours from the moment you kissed me for the first time.”

“I was yours from the moment you saved me with your credit card.”

Harry giggles and buries his head in Louis’ neck, his breathing soon balancing out and Louis knows he’s asleep.

 

He wants to stay this way forever.

 

~*~

 

Louis hates it when he knows that he’s going to be busy almost every day for the next few weeks. It’s the feeling of confinement, which he hates. Don’t get him wrong, he adores his job and couldn’t be happier to be achieving his childhood dream of becoming a popstar, but sometimes he just wishes he had more time to himself.

It’s the Sunday before the meeting on Monday, and Louis is trying to get as much sleep as possible, because if this video shoot is as time consuming as last time, he’ll barely be getting four hours a night.

Sometimes he hates how dedicated they are to pleasing the fans. Of course, they completely and utterly deserve everything they can get – One Direction wouldn’t even exist without them, really – but god, he’d much rather be one of those groups whose music videos are just them standing in a field and mouthing the words to their song, or something.

At least once the shoot starts, it should only take a week at the most to finish it – but then they have a month of promotion and interviews planned for their upcoming album, which he’s pretty sure is going to kill him.

 

Just as he feels himself slipping back into sleep again, the doorbell rings obnoxiously loud, and he decides to ignore it. He hopes that whoever it is will go away soon.

Sadly, they do the opposite, and start ringing it continuously, preventing Louis from doing anything but answer it.

“Okay, fine; fine, I’m coming,” he grumbles as he plods down the stairs and across the entrance hall to the front door, pulling it open with a scowl on his face until he sees who’s on the other side.

“Can I come in?”

Louis steps aside to let Harry past, smiling softly when he sees how he’s practically bouncing on the balls of his feet with each step. He turns around to look at the younger boy once the door is shut, and sees how his face could compete with certain astronomical objects’ properties; the sun’s brightness is in his eyes and the moon’s craters are denting his cheeks.

“Do I even need to ask?”

Harry laughs, shaking his head so the curls not held back by his headband fall into his eyes. He brushes them back, smiling brightly and Louis realises that he’s mirroring him.

“Well? Are you gonna hug me or not?”

Louis looks away, shrugging his shoulders in a faux-casual manner. ”I dunno…” As his eyes slowly trail back to Harry’s, he grins, then pulls him close, burying his face in the taller boy’s neck. “I’m so proud of you, baby. You’ll have to tell Niall; he’ll want to take you out for a celebratory piss-up.”

Harry chuckles. “Better not then – I start tomorrow, and I don’t think it would give off a good first impression if I turned up hungover.”

Louis pulls back from the embrace. “I could drive you if… shit, no I can’t. I have a meeting tomorrow.”

“No offence Lou, but you’d probably end up making me more nervous.”

Louis opens his mouth to protest, but Harry covers it with a large hand - which is immediately licked and then withdrawn rapidly.

“Ew! Remind me why I’m in a relationship with you again?”

“Because you _looooove_ me,” Louis sing-songs, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend’s neck.

 

~*~

 

“I swear to God; we’ve been here for less than an hour and I’m already bored.”

Niall then mumbles some form of agreement, his mouth full of rich tea biscuits.

Louis looks around the room, desperate for something interesting to catch his eye. They haven’t been called in for the main meeting yet; they’ve met the producers and director, but not a lot has been said. Louis still wishes that things could be much simpler; they could be out in that field before they knew it.

Suddenly, the door is thrown open and a boy around their age enters the room, a tray of more drinks held in his hands. Louis sees Zayn and Niall exchanging a glance as they take in the boy’s appearance; they can’t exactly be blamed – he’s wearing corduroy trousers and a sweater vest, for crying out loud, and his hair is slicked back with so much gel it looks almost heavy.

The boy must be noticing how each and every one of their eyes is on him as he shuffles across the room and gingerly places the tray on the coffee table, his hands shaking and his eyes pointing down at the floor.

Just as he turns to leave with the used glasses and mugs, he trips on the corner of one of the numerous rugs, and Liam’s luckily there to steady him.

“Careful, mate; that could’ve ended badly.”

The boy chuckles nervously, answering in a squeaky voice with what sounds like a slight American accent. “Thank you.”

“That’s alright. I’ll get the door for you.” Liam rushes over, holding it opens until the boy has scuttled past and thanked him again. He finally looks up at the four of them and smiles slightly, catching Louis’ eye briefly before hurrying away.

“Ah, yet another ‘Louis boy’,” Niall muses once the door is closed, leaning forward in his seat to pick up a fresh glass of water.

Louis scoffs as he does the same. “Don’t be ridiculous. You say every boy is a 'Louis boy'."

"He looked pretty star-struck by you, mate," Zayn comments, offhand.

Louis just rolls his eyes and unlocks his phone, seeing that Harry has finally replied to the text from earlier.

**Not doing a lot at the mo! Just helping where I can :)**

Still not entirely understanding how Harry can be positive about doing nothing, Louis fails in an attempt to keep the 'Harry smile' off of his face - which prompts the other boys in the room to start taking the piss.

"How many kisses Niall?" Liam asks as Louis types out a response; Niall dives across the sofa and retrieves the phone, looking at the screen and narrowing his eyes.

"None? I thought he was your boyfriend!"

After attempting to snatch the device back, Louis slumps back against the cushions. "We don't need to put kisses after every single text, you know."

Niall just sighs in exaggeration, finishing off the text that Louis had started with more than a dozen kisses and two heart emojis to top it off.

Louis smiles sarcastically as Niall slowly hands the phone back. "Thank you, mate."

(And if Harry replies with about three times as many kisses less than a minute later, Louis' just glad that the other boys are no longer paying attention to him.)

 

~*~

 

**Still bored?**

_**Oh, these meetings are thrilling. I left the others to talk some sense into the producers.** _

**So you're just wandering around?**

_**Pretty mu** _

There's suddenly a firm body right against his as two phones fall to the floor, and two heads collide as both people drop to the floor to retrieve their belongings.

"Fuck; that hurt."

Louis hears a squeak as he looks up and recognises the boy with the drinks from the other day.  There's a pause as each of them look at one another for a moment, before Louis returns to full height and offers a hand to help the other boy up.

"So sorry about that mate; really ought to watch where I'm going!"

The other boy just smiles, slipping his phone into his pocket and tucking his hands under the sleeves of his jumper.

“I’m Louis, by the way,” Louis says, holding his hand out once again in greeting.

The boy chuckles softly. “I know,” he says, taking Louis’ hand. “I’m Marcel.”

After letting go of one another’s hands, Marcel continues to walk in the same direction as before, pausing once he’s past the other boy. “Fancy walking me?”

Louis is taken aback by the apparently shy boy’s request, but nods nonetheless. “I ought to be getting back anyway. The other boys can only function so long without me.”

Marcel laughs again. “I can imagine.”

They walk in silence for a while, but it’s only so long before Louis has to break it.

“So, Marcel, how long have you been working here?”

Marcel’s eyes widen slightly in surprise at Louis’ interest. “Um, not long at all, actually.”

Louis nods in understanding. “Is that why you’ve been given probably the most boring jobs?”

“To put it simply, yes,” the other boy replies, continuing to fiddle nervously with the hems of his clothes. “Anyway, this is me.” He stops by a door with ‘Staff Only’ printed on the surface in red. “I hope to see you around, Louis.”

Unable to stop a mirroring smile from appearing on his face, Louis replies, “Yeah, you too.”

 

**Pretty much. I’m on my way back now though, so sorry if I’m late replying :* xxxxxxx**

 

~*~

 

“I just don’t get why this video has to be such a big deal. Why can’t it just be like that other one we did; when we were just in the studio singing and they filmed us? It’s stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

Harry just sighs, brushing his hand through Louis’ soft hair in a continuous, soothing rhythm.

“I mean, why can’t we just-?”

“Stand in a field mouthing the words?”

Louis lets out a ‘harrumph’ before rolling over so he’s resting his chin in his palms on Harry’s chest. “The idea doesn’t fit me at all. I’m not destructive, or out to cause trouble, or-”

“Jesus, Lou; that describes you to a T!”

With the scowl that he’s currently wearing, Louis looks about a quarter of his age. “Firstly, stop interrupting me; it’s rude.” Harry opens his mouth to protest, but Louis gives him a look which prompts him to close it. “And second, you’re not supposed to say that.”

Harry shrugs. “Just the truth babe.”

“Piss off.” Louis looks down and shifts his weight onto one arm as he starts tracing the outline of a mark he’d left on Harry’s collarbone not an hour earlier. He realises that his actions are getting to Harry more than he initially thought when Harry lets out a whine and rolls the two of them over so he can start marking Louis' neck in return.

 

~*~

 

"No way."

"Lou, it's for ten seconds. I-"

"When I say no, Liam, I mean no."

Liam brushes a hand through his hair as if it was still as long as it was when he and Louis met for the first time. "God knows why Ben thought I'd be best to persuade you. I've never been able to make you do anything."

Louis feels his eyes narrowing slightly as he incredulously says, "Ben sent you to do this?"

Liam sighs as he nods, clearly disappointed by his failure - despite the fact that he must've known that Louis wouldn't agree to be shirtless in this video for any length of time, no matter how short.

"I'll speak to him," Louis decides. "See if we can come up with some form of compromise."

On their way back over to where Ben is discussing something with Niall, Louis catches the eye of Marcel, who is stood by the closed door with yet another tray of drinks, a pleading expression on his face. Louis doesn't hesitate before rushing over and holding the door open for him.

"Thank you, Louis."

"You're welcome," Louis says politely, turning to leave before he hears Marcel's quiet voice once again.

"I certainly wouldn't worry about being shirtless, if I were you."

Louis contemplates carrying on as if he hadn't noticed, but he then quickly spins back, his mouth damp in preparation for the words he has to shoot at the other boy; words to tell him how it's got nothing to do with him and that he should mind his own business.

But he's gone.

It's as if those words weren't even made to leave that boy's mouth anyway; they were almost flirty and somewhat surprisingly inappropriate to be coming from someone like that.

Louis pauses in confusion for a moment before he is called over to join the rest of his bandmates.

 

That was the first time.

 

~*~

 

Louis has no idea whose plan it was to film the most complex piece of acting in the video right at the end of the week (he thinks it must be Ben's), but he certainly dislikes it.

He says ' _most complex piece of acting_ ', but it's really not - it's just that everything takes ten times as much effort when you've had to run around an office floor throwing paper everywhere and pushing Niall in a trolley for the past four days.

Not only has the whole shoot been physically draining; he's been pretty brain-tired the whole time too.

He never thought he'd be one of those lame boyfriends who actually heavily missed his partner when it had been more than two days since he saw them last, but unfortunately, he is. He's a sap.

He and Harry have kept in touch to the best of their ability, but with the video and Harry's new job, they've both wanted to finish their days at work and just go to bed - and that means their own beds, to each of their disappointment, ~~even though the scenario has actually led to a couple of rather interesting rounds of phone sex.~~

 

Louis' also spent the entirety of the recording completely and utterly frustrated. Sure, filming a music video to be enjoyable for a bunch of teenage fans is hardly an extreme mental exercise, but some of the people they've had to cooperate with have been rather hard work.

And by some of the people, he means Marcel.

Marcel _fucking..._ he doesn't even know his last name.

Despite his rather simple job of serving refreshments to everyone working on the music video, he always seems to be found centre stage whenever something goes wrong.  His main issue is that he's clumsy as fuck, and therefore really not suited for the job position of carrying trays of glasses - but Louis' problem with that is that it's so incredibly endearing, he finds himself thinking about how adorable Marcel is.

And this is all made much worse by the fact that this endearingly adorable boy won't stop bloody flirting with him.

 

Louis has a boyfriend.

Louis _has a boyfriend._

 

Louis is naturally rather flirty when he gets in the zone, so whenever Marcel makes any form of flirty comment, Louis' right there, his mouth open to speak a charming response.

However, he's currently doing a good job of never letting any words out.

Instead, his normal reaction is to raise his eyebrows slightly before either leaving him alone or moving the conversation onto something else. (And probably sending a few texts to his boyfriend, with what Niall would consider to be the right amount of kisses.)

He occasionally wonders if Marcel is in some form of relationship too (as he's often got a phone in his hand when it's not a tray) and is just a natural charmer.

Louis hopes that's the case.

 

He finds the perfect opportunity to ask when he's in his break (and has just sent a text to Harry) and looks up to see Marcel reading something on his phone and grinning.

Louis kicks him underneath the coffee table. "What ya readin'?"

When Marcel's cheeks turn slightly pink, Louis feels as if he's achieved something.

"Uh, nothing interesting," the other boy ends up replying, shoving the device back in his pocket.

Louis rolls his eyes. "Sure."

Marcel just shrugs, and before he has chance to say anything else, someone's calling him over from the other side of the room. As he stands, Louis notices the phone slipping onto the sofa, and goes to let Marcel know, but the boy's already disappeared.

For a Bambi, he sure can move quickly when necessary.

Deciding to be a Good Samaritan, Louis places the phone on the table and pulls out his own to reply to the text he received whilst talking to Marcel.

 

**Still not a lot! Just sat with a work friend at the moment :) xxxxxxx**

_**Haha, same here. Chatting to the kid who brings us drinks. He's an interesting lad xxxxxxx** _

 

Marcel's phone then buzzes on the table and the screen is illuminated; Louis catches a glimpse of the picture on his lock screen. It's a close up of Marcel not wearing his glasses, and someone in profile kissing his cheek.

It's really cute.

 

~*~

 

"This intro has to be one of the most awkward things I've ever been involved in."

Niall's comment pretty much sums up all of their feelings towards the beginning of the music video as they sit and wait for their next prompt. They can hear the team arguing back and forth, but it's all muffled, so they have no idea what it's about.

They then hear a crash, followed by a repetitive squeaky voice, which sounds like it must be apologising.

Louis can practically hear the simultaneous eye roll.

“I swear to god, if he drops one more thing-”

Zayn’s mutter of annoyance is interrupted by the door opening and Ben entering the room, closely followed by a bashful Marcel.

“Now, you guys know how I really want to get all of this filming done by the end of today, so you’ll have to bear with me. John – the marketing guy – has gone home ill, and because we have no one else, I’ve asked, um -“

“Marcel,” Marcel fits in hurriedly, his eyes wide.

“ _Marcel_ , to fill his place.”

Louis exchanges a brief glance with Zayn before turning back to the two men in the doorway.

“And the other extras are in make-up with Lou at the moment, so Louis – would you mind taking Marcel down there? Thanks.”

Ben gives him a look when he doesn’t move straight away, so – sensing that he’ll probably have to face the wrath of the director’s stress if he doesn’t do what he’s told – Louis hurries out of the room, Marcel trailing along behind him.

 

When Louis returns to where they’re filming after an awkwardly silent walk to and from Hair and Makeup, the room is in chaos. Luckily, all of the extras but Marcel have returned to the set, but it appears that none of them have any idea what they’re doing. Louis feels a bit bad for them as he plops down on the sofa beside Niall and listens as Ben constantly gives the poor souls contradictory instructions, clearly confusing the hell out of each of them.

He dreads Marcel getting involved in all of this.

 

Louis and the boys had always assumed that the clumsy assistant and trouble came hand in hand, but all of a sudden, once the boy has returned with his face freshly made up and hair even more slicked back than normal, everything is falling into place. Marcel hurries around the room, giving each and every person a quick pep talk, and soon the extras know their cues, and they’re remembering all of their lines.

“What the fuck is going on?” Niall mumbles out of the corner of his mouth.

“Don’t ask me,” Louis replies, watching as Ben starts making his way over.

“I want you all to just sit here on the sofa, and you all know your lines, right? Good. So, just speak your lines, at your cues, and you really, really, don’t like any of the suggestions Marcel or Leeroy are making, yes?”

The boys look at one another for the briefest moment.

“ _Yes?_ ” Ben exclaims, looking completely and utterly desperate at this point.

They all nod quickly, probably too many times, as each of them rack their brains for their lines.  

 

~*~

 

“And that’s a wrap!”

Two hours, too many cups of coffee and about ten million takes later, they’ve finally finished the filming, and a collective sigh of relief spreads around the room. Niall is the first out of his seat, exclaiming about how they should all go out for drinks, and that he’ll get the first round.

Louis has a moment where he wonders whether it would be better for him to just go home and catch up on sleep, but he decides that alcohol is what his body needs right now, so he’s soon thanked everyone and is on his way out of the door with his bandmates.

“Hey,” Liam nudges his hip, “why don’t you ask Marcel if he wants to come?”

Louis turns back to where Marcel is wandering around the room, picking up pieces of paper and miscellaneous stationery that they had been throwing around.

He turns back to Liam and pulls a face, knowing how awkward that conversation would be. Instead of being the good friend Louis expected, Liam shoves him further into the room, telling him that they’ll meet him at the pub down the road.

Once the door has shut, drowning out the celebratory chatter as everyone leaves, Louis slowly shuffles over to where Marcel is organising pencils and pens into two separate holders.

“Hi.”

Marcel spins around, his face lit up. “Louis! How are you?”

Louis’ sure that he’s never heard anyone sound so thrilled to see him.

“Uh, good thanks,” he replies. “The lads and I were just wondering if you wanted to come out for some drinks with us?”

Marcel’s face falters. “I’m not sure…”

“Seriously, mate; you’ve done so much for us - especially today. Please?”

The taller boy bites his lip (Louis holds his breath) and looks down at the ground, eventually mumbling his agreement.

 

~*~

 

Most of the team left after the first or second round, so it’s eventually just the band along with Marcel (and their bodyguards lurking in the corner).

Louis texted Harry as soon as they left the studio to ask if he wanted to join them, but never received a response, so he finds himself spending most of his time with the newest addition to their group, finding his company much more entertaining than he originally thought it would.

Somehow, the five of them end up on the dancefloor - which is only occupied otherwise by a group of girls they’ve already taken pictures with - singing along to Katy Perry at the top of their lungs and laughing at one another’s horrific dance moves.

“Can we go outside?”

Louis turns away from where he was watching Niall and Zayn having some strange form of dance off, looking up at Marcel’s flushed cheeks and - _is that a dimple?_

“My Harry has a dimple just like yours!” he exclaims cheerfully, poking a finger into Marcel’s cheek and missing the dimple by a good few centimetres.

Marcel just laughs before taking Louis’ arm and leading him away from the dancefloor and over towards the back door to the beer garden. It’s dark and cold outside, and Louis realises how late it must be, as the moon is completely up and covering the benches in a soft silvery glow, and there’s barely any sounds of traffic nearby.

“What did ya want to come outside for?” Louis asks, wobbling slightly on his feet before deciding to sit down.

Marcel giggles. “I can’t remember!”

Unable to do anything but join in with the laughter, Louis throws his head back as loud bellows from deep in his stomach echo around the garden.

“I like you, Marcel,” he says after a moment.

Marcel remains silent, but slowly sits down beside him on the bench.

“I mean, I know I was a complete and utter twat to you when we first met, but as time’s gone on,” Louis gestures into the distance, as if his words were those of wisdom, “I’ve come to like you more and more. You’re a good lad.” He slaps a hand down on the other boy’s shoulder.

Marcel just stares at Louis for a good minute or so, before shuffling closer and appearing to hesitate before covering Louis’ lips with his own.

Louis immediately kisses back, and it’s all happening too quickly when their tongues are tangling between their mouths, soft pants and moans coming from each of them. His hands travel slowly up Marcel’s back, over the wool of his pullover, and up to his hair, which is...not curly.

“Jesus christ!” Louis hurriedly pulls away once the remaining sober part of his brain reacts, only to be faced with Marcel’s crumpled expression. “I have a boyfriend.”

“So do I.”

“If you love him as much as I love mine, then you wouldn’t have wanted to keep kissing me.”

“I love him with all my heart,” Marcel quickly replies.

“Then why did you kiss me?” Louis demands, covering his hands with the cuffs of his hoodie.

“I couldn’t have gone through this whole week without acting on my feelings.”

And then, before Louis even has chance to think, there’s a hand gripping at his t-shirt and another cupping his face, and once again, warm lips against his.

 

~*~

 

Louis wakes the next morning with an absolutely pounding headache and an initial thought of, fuck, I hope I remembered to buy more aspirin.

His attention is drawn to something soft pressing against his left arm where it hangs off the side of the bed, and it’s Toffee, rubbing her face against his hand as deep purrs rumble in her throat. He smiles softly down at her for a second, before realising that his other arm is thrown in the opposite direction - and it’s over a body.

His stomach drops as his eyes slowly make their way over the duvet-covered lump, seeing a bit of chocolate brown hair at the top - and glasses on the bedside table.

_Shit._

Once he’s stumbled out of bed, Louis pulls on a t-shirt - thankfully, he’s already wearing boxers - and rushes out of the room, jogging down to the kitchen where he gets some painkillers out of the cupboards and takes a couple before falling into one of the chairs at the table and burying his face in his hands.

 

He cheated.

 

_He fucking cheated._

 

On Harry - perfect Harry, who has been the only partner of Louis’ he’s actually seen a future with. Harry who he couldn’t bear to lose.

 

Harry who he loves so much.

 

Louis decides that he has to tell him. There’s no way he can keep it a secret, and if it results in the two of them breaking up, then it’s Louis’ own stupid fault.

He grabs the home phone out of the dock on the kitchen counter, and dials Harry’s mobile number from memory. As he holds it to his ear, hearing the tone telling him it’s ringing, he can already feel the lump forming in his throat.

_I’ve fucked up._

But then he hears it.

There’s another phone ringing in the house.

Louis’ heard Marcel’s phone ringing before, and it’s tone is normally that old-style phone one that gets on Louis’ nerves.

This, however, is playing a One Direction song.

Louis wanders into the living room where it sounds like the song is coming from, with the phone still pressed to his ear. He sees an iPhone on the table, and it’s definitely that that’s playing _Strong_ through the speakers.

The house phone then clicks on to voicemail, and the iPhone stops ringing.

Feeling his eyebrows furrow together in a frown, Louis hangs up and reaches down to retrieve the iPhone, wondering if Harry could have possibly left it behind. It _can’t_ be his though, because he’s been texting back on it ever since he was last at Louis’ house the previous weekend, so it _must_ be Marcel’s.

 

Three things happen at the exact same time when Louis reaches the top of the stairs again:

1\. _Strong_ starts playing at exactly the same time as the dial tone on the home phone begins.

2\. ‘ **Loooooou <3**’ appears on the screen of the iPhone.

3\. Louis stands in the doorway to his bedroom, staring at the boy sat up in his bed on top of the covers, hair half incredibly messy, and half squashed against his head.

 

Half Harry, half Marcel.

 

Louis thinks he must still be drunk.

 

~*~

 

Harry hurriedly explains everything while Louis is still stood in the doorway to the bedroom. He rushes over how it turned out that he didn’t get the job he originally wanted, and because he was worried that people would recognise him as the boy who hung around with One Direction, he got Lou to help him develop a new sense of style so no one would know who he was. He mentions how when he heard that Louis and the boys would be coming and working on their new music video there, he told everyone that would be involved to call him Marcel, so Louis had no idea that he’d failed in getting his dream job.

“You...you did all that, just because you thought I’d, what? Judge you?” Louis says.

Harry shrugs, pulling the duvet up to his chin. “I don’t know. I just didn’t want to disappoint you.”

There’s hardly a second before Louis has made it over to the bed and has wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. “You’re so silly.”

“‘M not,” Harry mumbles into the material of Louis’ t-shirt.

“You are. I can’t believe you thought you could possibly disappoint me.”

“I’m not famous like you are,” the younger boy replies bluntly, prompting Louis to pull back from the embrace.

“Is that what this is about?”

Harry shrugs again, and because Louis’ not even sure how to react, he’s leaning forward in an attempt to kiss Harry’s worries away. Harry immediately reacts, reaching up and pulling Louis on top of him, opening his mouth so their tongues can meet.

Louis pulls away to take a breath and starts leaving gentle butterfly kisses across his boyfriend’s cheek, down his neck and ending at the birds on his chest, marking each of them in turn.

“I love you so much,” he says between kisses, slowly making his way down Harry’s long torso. “I really hope you know that.”

“I love you with all my heart, remember?” Harry whispers.

Louis looks up then, resting his chin on Harry’s stomach. “Yeah. I remember.”

They continue to gaze at each other for a moment longer before Louis is grinning cheekily and continuing with his trail of kisses down to the waistband of Harry's boxers, pausing for a second and catching his boyfriend's eye in question.

Harry shrugs as if he really doesn't care what Louis does next. ( ~~They both know that he does.~~ ) "Go ahead - you wouldn't do it last night anyway."

  


**Author's Note:**

> [Sorry for the lame ending - I wanted to do more, but I was desperate to have this finished before my exams!]  
> EDIT 11/05/14 ~ I did end up changing it a little...
> 
>  
> 
> [Tumblr](http://truthtattoos.tumblr.com)


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